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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674712">in this shirt, i can be you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRainer/pseuds/hallowed'>hallowed (AMRainer)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>as told through history. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, He finally gives her an orgasm because let's be honest that wedding night was big trash, Hopeful Ending, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, She made him a shirt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:00:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,767</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25674712</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRainer/pseuds/hallowed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>he's wearing him and her, every day, and it's when he realizes such that he knows they need a fresh start.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Contessina de' Bardi/Cosimo di Giovanni de' Medici</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>as told through history. [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>in this shirt, i can be you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hiii, seems like i can't get enough of them and their chemistry still baffles me soooo ;)</p><p>this piece is after that flashback scene in Pestilence (01x03) which is my favorite episode, by the way, and i'll definitely write another oneshot about iiit. in the meanwhile, enjoy this one &lt;3</p><p>i also don't know if Cosimo was indeed 7 when Damiano died, because the show's TL is very different from the historical one, but i thought 7 would do so bear with me.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’d been avoiding her bed.</p><p> </p><p>It’s what his parents told him and what’s stuck with him even after all that commotion concerning Damiano. A lost thread that could never be recovered, and one he still felt no guilt for since he was but a child when all things happened. How was he supposed to care for another when he knew not how to care for himself at the mighty age of 7 years-old?</p><p> </p><p>Was he even at full capacity to do it properly in the present?</p><p> </p><p>Probably not, far too young to even think about it reasonably, and perhaps that was another half of the reason he withdrew from performing his <em>marital duties</em>. Fear he couldn’t be a decent father, at least better than his own had been.</p><p> </p><p>Definitely not for the lack of desire, for he was still to enter his twenties and his wife was — undoubtedly — a beauty, regardless of how he was still burying his sentiments for Bianca. Physical attraction did not have to do with affections, he soon learned that from the first time his lips pressed to those of his partner until the very present.</p><p> </p><p>In the end, he was but a man with the same mundane thoughts as any other would have. Less fearful of God than he would be in his later days, but religious still ( much more than his father or his brother could ever ).</p><p> </p><p>Still, it stung. When his azure tints landed on her quiet figure, full of life and willing to do her part in this so-called union, Cosimo’s figure halted by the doorway with his fists balled as he vaguely wondered why she was irritatingly. . . <em>perfect</em>. Yes, her sense of duty and her austerity and the natural air of royalty that made others fawn over her.</p><p> </p><p>Her fingers were neatly folding a piece of his wear, placed it inside the bag he had just started working on before she brought up the whole subject about his<em> woman from Rome</em>, in such ways that it made him feel dirty at the mere suspicion that he would be unfaithful to her. It didn’t cross his mind, despite how it should have and maybe that was a proof of some goodwill concerning their marriage.</p><p> </p><p>What would he even do if he saw Bianca again? Oh, he did not wish to even think about it, pushed those memories aside as the gem of her sight contacted those of his. Almost as if caught red-handed, the younger brunette chose to pause her activities and simply stare back at him ( because he had been lost in thought at the image of her, <em>gawking</em> ).</p><p> </p><p>“I was just filling your baggage, Cosimo”, her justification came, made him hate it even more for how she felt the need to do so. “About what I said before—”</p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t see her”, his tone was somber, drunk with the thought that he hadn’t actually considered looking for the redhead.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed to catch her by surprise, the manner her lips parted — then closed — unsure how to proceed, being enough of a reason for him to step further into the room with his hands then clasped behind his back. Contessina had this thing about her that he detested — how she made him resemble the greatest idiot in all Christendom for not thanking God that he shared his bed with her.</p><p> </p><p>Perhaps he was indeed such a thing, only time would settle and the paths they trailed to show him the value of what stood right before him. In this particular piece of scene, though, the banker’s son still had youth enough to fall on repetitive mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>His hand reached for the chemise that was placed inside the container, thumb noticing the needlework of the neck that did not appear like others he wore. Sight of her followed the line of his, moving from his intrigued visage ( that crease of curiosity on his temple ) to the object of his attention.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s new, I fetched a batch last week since the winter is coming”, green hues were to peruse back his expression, taking in the seat of his chemise’s collar through the dark jacket atop. “In fact. . .”</p><p> </p><p>And that was when she caught his entire attention, the thought of wearing <em>him and her</em> through an entire day being enough to have his skin ablaze at the deepest of intimacies. He hated this about himself, how he was often enraptured by the tiny details of life, such trait learned from the endless observations of arts and the beauty those little things brought to the world.</p><p> </p><p>The atmosphere shifted entirely, posture tensing instinctively whilst her throat grew dry under his scrutiny. His mind wandered, followed down to the motion of her brims when they pressed in a brief thin-line, that arch of her collarbone through the simple strap of her nightgown and the valley of her breasts that was hidden by the lazy knot keeping her attire in place.</p><p> </p><p>All for him to touch, to claim and he idly remembered that even after months he hadn’t stripped her bare a single time. Kept within propriety, in what was expected of most arranged marriages as both were well confined to the metaphorical walls of their respective worn layers.</p><p> </p><p>At last, the chemise inside the bag was easily forgotten. Broad shoulders squared once more; jaw clenched as he reluctantly dragged his eyes to lock view with hers in wish for a consent that he knew she’d willingly bestow upon him through the manner her figure appeared immediately more inviting.</p><p> </p><p>He was quiet, she was <em>not</em>, and they would take years to grow used to it — but for now, those <em>tells </em>would suffice.</p><p> </p><p>Cosimo towered over her when he closed the remaining space, back of his index outlining the side of her neck as he would do many other times in the future. Her skin was smooth, delicate, so very exquisite in that aspect that he could only think of the polished marble when he permitted himself to indulge a bit more in her charms.</p><p> </p><p>Fingers would undo the singular tie, breastbone explicit to his sight and she gasped at how he all too eagerly skimmed the straps down her shoulders. Wouldn’t take much other than that for her gown to poll around her feet. She was thoroughly exposed to him, their lenses never leaving one another in a ritual that would belong to them eventually.</p><p> </p><p>Of course, that shouldn’t last long as the older man leaned in to press his lips to the nook of her neck. Contessina’s head tilted back in welcoming fashion — the manner his palm cupped her nape being a pleasant support amid the whimper that escaped her mouth in the sudden surge of arousal that eclipsed her better reason.</p><p> </p><p>What he did not expect, though, was her bold reach for his belt and then the hooks that kept his black wear sitting stiff around his torso. Bare skin brushed to fabric, the sensation odd yet alluring, especially with his teeth and tongue and mouth so taken in exploring the presented expanse of her.</p><p> </p><p>When she finally managed to help him out of the sleeved piece, Cosimo broke his latch to her by allowing her an inch of control over their exchange. And the noblewoman easily agreed as she untucked his chemise for him to roll it over his head and toss it aside to the pile of discards around them. Revealed his chest, fit and strong and those hairs coating that made him even more masculine.</p><p> </p><p>They stood across one another, her figure petite in comparison to his and he heard noises from the corridor that reminded him the door was left wide open for any servant to peek. It was a minute too long, his eyes basking in the glory of her figure as he had deprived himself to see before, her long legs and wide hips and her mound and. . . the door, he needed the door sealed just so he could do as he desired without a concern in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Needless to say, it was in the manner his sight wandered to the side that she knew exactly what to do. Unused to, much of a prude still, Contessina coyly stepped towards the doorway and closed the wooden material ( which gave Cosimo enough time to remove the heavy boots he wore on a daily basis ).</p><p> </p><p>Just as she leaned against the door, arms hugging around her breasts and thighs pressed together, it was that mere innocence of hers that caught him off guard altogether. There was a darkness about his expression when he sauntered towards her, shamelessly decided that he was done pretending not to feel attraction to the younger brunette as he clasped her wrists firmly only to push her extremities away from her figure.</p><p> </p><p>His mouth sought her brims, plundered her every thought as masculine palms splayed on her sides and hoisted her up effortlessly with her thighs locking around his waist instinctively. Oh, he could have her against the door as if she was nothing but a body to him, that idea vaguely crossing him and vanishing as soon as her arms wrapped around his neck and she peered at him with veiled trust.</p><p> </p><p>It downed on him, right about then, that he never actually satisfied her in bed — never felt that all too known tug around him attesting his partner’s rapture. In which case, that much appeared to consume him that evening as he hooked a strong arm around her slim waist in order to obtain balance. Meanwhile, his opposite end found her breast and flickered over her nipple afore he ducked his head to suckle its pair, beckoned her closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Husband?”, came in her question, slightly bewildered at this whole predicament and how he appeared to fight himself between what he wanted to do and another side of him that still denied that he could find even better completion with her.</p><p> </p><p>Silent he went, regardless of the hanging inquire, fingertips trailed her curves and skimmed her navel afore he reached her womanly parts much to her surprise. A single finger, delving in her slit <em>until</em>—</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Oh—</em>”, there, right there and he switched the index for his thumb, decided to be more productive with a rough pad as he stroked her in circles despite the limited space between them.</p><p> </p><p>It was entirely unexpected to the Earl’s daughter, the waves of want that crashed through her lithe figure at his paced touch. Her thighs parted further without a single propriety and he had to weigh heavier in order to maintain her pushed flush against the door. Their lips ghosted when he leveled their visages, midnight gaze, as every and each sweep elicited an impatient rise on her moans.</p><p> </p><p>Contessina had not much of a clue of what he attempted right then and there, only indulged in the labored breath and how he seemed just as enthralled about this all as she was. His rubs fastened, along with her bodily response and how much damper she became by the instant, hips canting in a jolt that preceded her very first climax. To Cosimo’s utter delight, most definitely, for the way her skin turned warm at that sole ministration left him straining the well-knotted breeches he still sported.</p><p> </p><p>Short nails clawed on his shoulders; a gasp followed by her head leaning back against the wooden surface. It was a sensation like no other she’d ever experienced; the rush of wanton forming a shaky choke out of his name.</p><p> </p><p>“Cosimo— what is <em>this</em>?”, there was genuine confusion, he reckoned, and a barely there grin roomed on his flushed features whilst he slid down his digits to find her warm wetness.</p><p> </p><p>If anything, she never thought that to be doable, a stunned hiss being her reaction afore he decided for <em>two</em> in order to stretch her up enough. Middle and ring found themselves lost between her thighs, basking in the magnificent clench she instinctively performed around his pads when they pumped in and out with a vicious rhythm that craved to have her fall apart under his grip. Heel of his hand shifted to mold to her womanhood, jam her mound every single time he filled her up.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t hold it back”, the dark-haired man spoke in his baritone pitch, all too aware of the bubble of arousal they were engulfed in. “Just— <em>don’t</em>—”</p><p> </p><p>Jaw clenched with a twitch of his restrained cock, teeth nipped on her bottom lip. Tug and pull and he kept working within her, a curl of his fingers only to find her walls clamping down then fluttering thrust later ( with an acute-noted whimper, a buck of her hips against him that he knew to be the utmost loss of her poise ). Contessina was beautiful, venturing in the throes of passion once and for all as her whole figure combusted in his steady arms.</p><p> </p><p>Slowing down, greens were to peer back at azure tints with a hooding darkness. Her breath mingled to his in the thickened air, mind still reeling with whatever had just happened to her — an euphoria that not even her greatest joy could bring. Tip of his nose brushed to hers, cocked her head slightly upwards in teasing manner when he left her hollow and chose to grip the flesh of her nude thigh instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Beautiful”, he murmured, almost sarcastic that this was how their evening turned out when they had an argument about half an hour previous.</p><p> </p><p>If his wife could barely move, then he definitely was pretty much the opposite with a whole unsorted predicament hidden by the remaining layer. That prompted him to step away from the entrance with her weight entirely carried ( how he did not seem to be done with her keeping the younger brunette at silent attention to his newfound desire ).</p><p> </p><p>Once her back was eased on the duvets, sight of hers was to idly scan his figure as he still stood on the ground. Her thighs rubbed together, hoped to keep something to herself despite how he undid the laces of his wear right before her and tugged it down until they were matching in nudity.</p><p> </p><p>The heir’s manhood sprung free from its confines, pre-come oozing from the tip and it was when he caught her stealing a glance that he knew to move. Masculine hands spread her legs, indiscreetly eyed the mess he made of her cunt with a quiet vow that he’d keep that in his memories. Hovering over her a beat later, though, Cosimo stood heavily cocked against her and all his reason was long forgotten along with his baseless anger and proper marriage decorum.</p><p> </p><p>Feminine hand rested on his upper arm, fondled him all too lovingly as he kept unrelenting sight on her. It was Contessina’s free palm to sneak between them this one time, boldly take charge when her petite hand closed around his erection and guided him to where she needed him most. A hum of approval, deep toned when he decided to sweep her into a languid kiss, timed to a single thrust that did not hesitate to fill her to the brim.</p><p> </p><p>Her whimper was captured by his mouth, got him going with hips all too aware of how to proceed as he took her with searing passion. This one time, it was blatantly organic instead of the previously mechanic actions, the film of perspiration on their skin already evident as the wet thuds of sex began to grow in the silence of the room.</p><p> </p><p>Only the creaks of the fireplace and their vocalizations, as it should have been from the very first day. And she felt gloriously snug around him, how she was wildly responsive to him in ways that he never expected — nibble to her collarbone as a tentative reminder of what they’d done that evening. If he was to leave in the morning, shortly after they finally gave in, then he ought to save her a memory.</p><p> </p><p>“That shall leave a mark”, her small complaint, regardless of how her walls narrowed momentarily.</p><p> </p><p>“And you seem to thrive on it”, was his posed challenge, hands each at a time taking charge of her wrists as he pinned her down to his delight.</p><p> </p><p>Long legs were to lock around his waist, draw him closer until she could feel a last inch. Never failed to amaze her, that sensation of being <em>full</em>, even when she only knew the pleasure behind it all now ( never quite reached completion in the few nights he shared her bed until then, as she’d been freshly fucked by his fingers right against the door of their shared chamber instead ).</p><p> </p><p><em>As if that was not remembrance enough</em>, Contessina mused inwardly as she felt his search for something else entirely. Almost as if he had an aim, something that she was blissfully unaware of until that every moment when his tip stroked her tender flesh and she saw through the real dash of arousal.</p><p> </p><p>Loud moan, one that she couldn’t contain as her hair fanned on the mattress, those dark tresses that he found so very enticing from their introduction. Every and each time he reached her deepest was a whole havoc, raw length feeling every bit of her responses to him as it shot a possessiveness that he knew not how to describe — only made him go <em>rougher, harder</em>.</p><p> </p><p>Beads of sweat were even more prominent, his brims dropping to stain the perfect alabaster skin on the swell of her breast. Dear heavens, even Cosimo grunted his approval by making her his in a deeper sense of it. Hadn’t he pinned her down, those fingernails of hers would’ve achieved the same, written a story on his muscular back that he would keep to himself and his daydreams during his trip to Rome.</p><p> </p><p>As if he wasn’t bound to do so anyway.</p><p> </p><p>Arm hooked around her knee, pushed her limb further up and reached something that he couldn’t fathom. It appeared to be quite the perfect angle for her as he bent slightly to the right, that sweet release coming in explicit surges until his wife was found arching beneath him amidst the delectable suck her inner walls performed ( almost primal instinct to bear him a child, to keep his every drip inside of her ).</p><p> </p><p>“<em>COSIMO—"</em>, high-pitched, in ways that only she could provide him with, toying to his male ego as he’d fall apart a breath later with a groan that was pretty audible to any passing figure.</p><p> </p><p>Just as he did, the banker’s son thrusted forward to bury himself as deep as he could once his seed leaked inside her. Painted her full, proudly as he was all too aware that he had soiled her first. Whipping back his head, the man rode that moment along his wife, shared this one with her as both were enkindled by their own complex sentiments.</p><p> </p><p>It was. . . <em>sublime —</em> his breath caught as he peered down at her while she came down from oblivion much like he did. Skins were flushed, exposed their activities to a whole as her shaky thighs disentangled from his grip until they fell weakened by each side of his.</p><p> </p><p>Pride overtook him as he extricated himself from her cunt despite her objection in form of a gasp. His own palms decided it was time to let her go, though his lips didn’t as they dragged down her jaw, neck and the valley of her breasts. Hopefully, she’d bear him a child out of this — and even if she didn’t, he would come back into her bed as soon as he finished business in Rome. It was a promise, looking forward to have more of this newly discovered connection between the sheets.</p><p> </p><p>“What caused all this?”, her dazed tone rose between them, greens following his figure as he was lost mouthing all skin he found.</p><p> </p><p>Sapphires looked up at her amused expression from his spot at her chest, let go of her nipple regardless of how he was quite entertained by it. <em>Ah yes</em>, that was something entirely different that she had yet to get used to.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t want <em>her</em> to part us”, and by her, their minds each travelled to opposite meanings.</p><p> </p><p>“Who?”, Contessina inquired, nimble fingers reaching for his long curls as she hesitantly ran them through it.</p><p> </p><p>While for him it seemed obvious, for her it was an entirely different story. They were speaking of the other woman before this all unfolded, so it was only natural that she expected him to address such matter once more. When he did not, though, she assumed that could be a closed case between them at last.</p><p> </p><p>“My mother”, a shrug whilst he pulled away and slid out of bed to head for the wine by the corner table, not quite minding his bareness as much ( which had her eyes trailing after him, his back and bum and. . . <em>well</em>, that was quite the sight if she were to give an opinion ). “Stay down, you need to hold my seed”.</p><p> </p><p>Almost as if she was caught in the act, Contessina pressed her thighs together to prevent him from spilling — remained in the very same position as her figure relaxed atop the blankets. The young wife assumed that he had gone to speak to his parents concerning the piece of information that broke their argument this time, especially to Piccarda. And while she was still blissfully unaware that he was a twin, it was easy to realize things had not gone well.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps when you’re back we should go to the countryside. . . if you’d like”, her solution, spoken into the night as a feminine hand splayed on her stomach in silent prayer that she wouldn’t be entirely dismissed.</p><p> </p><p>Holding the goblet with burgundy content, Cosimo casted her a sideways glance as he considered. Days on with her as his only company, which could become disastrous or. . . it could <em>actually</em> be a decent way to restart their marriage ( from whatever it had been these past few months ). Not to mention that Careggi was his favorite place, allowed him to have quietude to read and what all else his introvert persona enjoyed.</p><p> </p><p>Once he drained the liquid and weighed the proposition, his reply would be simple.</p><p> </p><p>“We could do that, <em>yes</em>”, a plural pronoun that finally included her in something, rather than chose to overlook that this was for the both of them.</p><p> </p><p>Never did he miss the small smile that stretched her lips, greens filtering his image as they — at last — had a promise of threading this shared life differently. For the better.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>spare some reviews please !!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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